


Homin Collection

by slyferris (Ethsei)



Category: DBSK | Tohoshinki | TVfXQ | TVXQ
Genre: Drabble Collection, M/M, One Shot Collection
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-05
Updated: 2015-04-18
Packaged: 2018-03-01 09:49:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2768714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ethsei/pseuds/slyferris
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>basically just a bunch of drabbles/oneshots/unfinished fics</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I probably won't get around to filling in the blanks anytime soon but fuck it I wanna at least post what I wrote for it. so , big gaps, probably confusing, but yeah.
> 
> WARNINGS!! Sexual abuse, child abuse, alcoholism, addiction, lots of angst and closeting

* * *

^ those break things are time skips where I haven't written what happens between

 

28/09/2013 – 105,076 hits

**_SHIM CHANGMIN THREATENS REPORTER_ **

The infamous Shim Changmin strikes again! The twenty-three year old, on a flight home from his latest tour in Japan ( _see more ) _landed in Incheon airport in the early hours of the morning. Despite the early hour, reporters and fans alike stood at the ready and swarmed the solo star when he arrived at _4:15 a.m._

“Everyone rushed at him as soon as he came out,” one young female witness reports. “You could tell he (Changmin) was angry. I was next the reporter who was taking pictures with the flash on and he started asking Changmin-oppa about his DUI charges ( _read more_ about the recent accident). The flash must’ve startled him when he got close because he grabbed the reporter’s camera and started yelling. I did hear him yell, ‘don’t f--king talk to me. Don’t you f--king take pictures of me or I’ll smash your f--king camera and you won’t be far behind’.”

A second witness confirms that Jaejoong threatened the reporter. “He was yelling and getting all in that dude’s face, then he said he was going to break his camera and him. His security team jumped on him and dragged him out before anything could happen.”

Just when we thought things couldn’t have gotten worse for the young star with the recent list of scandals piling up. His steady down spiral started soon after the four member band, Dong Bang Shin Ki, split in two; Micky Yoochun, Kim Jaejoong, and Xiah Junsu leaving the company and leaving Shim Changmin behind.

We wonder when, or _if_ the popular star will get back on track.

 

[+72, -12] Fix your attitude… it’s embarrassing…

[+87, -94] it’s not right that he did this but I can’t help feel a bit sorry for him. Imagine having people shove cameras in your face every single day :\

[+105, -8] so when’s his court date hmm…? Just because he’s a celebrity he won’t get in trouble for drink driving? money can take you a long way

[+212, -81] someone please deport him LOL

 

 

Yunho lowers the magazine and shakes his head ruefully. He scrapes his dark brown fringe behind his right ear and jabs his finger at the face of the singer. “This guy is out of control.”

His ginger haired roommate levels him with a look over the dining table, spoon filled with cereal halfway to his mouth. “And I care, why?”

Yunho charitably ignores him and keeps on rambling. “I mean sure, I get it, he’s having a hard time with the whole lawsuit and his band breaking up. But it’s been _two years_ and he still hasn’t gotten his shit together. The first assault charge, I understood. The first few run ins with the police, I understood, but this is just ridiculous now. I have no sympathy, _no sympathy_ for people who don’t even try to move on.”

His roommate chews on his cereal and stares at Yunho with droopy, glazed eyes, used to Yunho’s morning newspaper rants. Yesterday was the oil crisis. The day before, the failing economy.

Yunho snaps his fingers in front of his friends face. “Focus, Heechul. _This_ is the face of, arguably, the most popular idol among teenagers and young adults. What does that say about our role models in the media right now? These kids shouldn’t be looking up to this… this _train wreck_ ,” he rants, pushing the spread up in Heechul’s space, almost knocking his bowl of cereal into his lap.

Heechul’s scowls at the younger man’s insistence, and he trails his eyes down a picture of the blonde singer taken at the airport. Heechul has seen his face plastered almost everywhere around town, but he still gets a shock when he notices how pretty the idol really is. His shirts scooped low, his collarbones jutting. He’s thick lipped with high cheekbones that his skin stretches over. What makes him so fascinating to look at though are his eyes. They’re cold, flat, and look like he doesn’t carry an inch of remorse on his back. ??? idk nah change it or smth

“He’s hot though.”

“ _Heechul!_ This is a serious issue! _”_

The older rolls his eyes because at seven in the morning, _everything_ is a serious issue where Yunho is concerned. “What can I say? I have a thing for pretty boys who look like they’ve just stepped out of a coffin.”

Yunho narrows his cat-like eyes. “You would. What was the most recent one’s name again? That Chinese dancer with the shitty haircut? I swear you go through them as fast as you do your cigarettes.”

Heechul flicks a cheerio at Yunho’s forehead, eliciting a yelp and much grumbling from the brunette. “Quiet from you on my love life. What’s the deal, anyway? You work with grumpy celebrities with bitchy personalities almost every day, but every time you so much take a _glimpse_ at this Shim Changmin dude you blow up and start a self-righteous rant.”

Yunho sighs and flicks his eyes up to the ceiling. “Yes, but there’s a difference between bitchy celebrities and celebrities who endanger other people’s lives because they can’t control their drinking.” With an irritated twitch of his eye, he tacks on, “and I am not self-righteous.”

“God, stop caring so much.”

“God, at least _try_ to pretend you care sometimes, Heechul.”

It’s a wonder they’re friends, Yunho thinks, because putting them together is like throwing oil into a flame. Heechul doesn’t give a shit about _anything,_ and Yunho cares about everything. They’re an interesting combo, but somehow they work. They’ve been best friends since their second year of high school. They hated each other’s guts for a good half a year before (Yunho accidentally tripped Heechul and they yelled at each other so much that they somehow became friends) they realised that they both had a common interest _in fashion when Heechul started reading Vouge in class and Yunho couldn’t help but chime in what a nice jacket that one model was wearing_. The rest is history.

Yunho tends to work well with people who differ from him as much as possible, a trait that lead to interesting stories and turbulent relationships.

It’s good for party stories, but bad in pretty much every other aspect of his life.

Yunho likes to think of it as a learning curve.

Yunho looks at his watch and sighs. “Well I have to go. I’m getting a new client today, apparently.”

Heechul just grunts and doesn’t look up from his cereal.

 

The train ride to work is hot, stuffy, and crowded, and Yunho is already in a bad mood.

To top things off, the train stutters to a halt a kilometre before the station and he’s forced to get off and walk all the way to work.

The sun’s beating on his neck and the pavement is so grey it’s almost as if it’s sucking his motivation away with every step he takes.

There aren’t even any god damn trees.

To make matters worse, and Yunho wasn’t even sure things _could_ get worse, when he walks through the city square there’s an interview playing on the big screen of that slimy looking lizard man.

Shim. Changmin.

So now he’s late, sweaty, and those beady eyes of Shim Changmin are blown up to inappropriate proportions.

Yunho has the urge to pick up his phone and dial Heechul’s number just to bitch, but he’s almost a hundred percent certain he’d get hang up on as soon as he muttered Shim Changmin’s name. Actually, Heechul probably wouldn’t even answer in the first place.

He refrains from looking with difficulty, because he has a few choice words he wants to shout at the T.V but he thinks he might possibly get arrested if he starts picking a fight with an inanimate object in a very public area.

Instead, he just curses him out in his head.

It makes him feel a bit better.

 

Yunho likes to imagine his boss looks like the love child of Severus Snape and Dolores Umbridge with an overly enthusiastic personality tacked on. He’s not a bad guy like what his imagined heritage would imply just, not gifted in the looks department.

He scratches the tip of his obnoxiously large nose and sniffs.

“Come in, Yunho,” he beckons with his fat fingers after Yunho knocks on his glass door.

Yunho is already on edge, because he’s an hour late and his boss doesn’t even look angry. Which is suspicious. _Highly_ suspicious.

He walks in hesitantly.

The walls are ridiculously bright and the carpet a horrid green that reminds Yunho a little bit of puke.

It’s not exactly his favourite place in the world.

Folding his hands in front of his stomach, he says cautiously, “yes?”

His boss leans back in his leather chair and it groans beneath him. “You know that new client I was telling you about? Well the job’s quite close to home, actually.”

Yunho sighs in relief. At least his boss isn’t going to ship him off to a foreign country again. ‘ _It’s because we love you,’_ his co-workers had said. To be fair, they did give him a fruit basket when he came home. It had mangoes, too.

“He’s a singer, and he needs a replacement dancer. The whole job should last about six months if you’re lucky. And the pay… well I’m happy to say it’s quite the increase from all your previous jobs.”

Yunho knows there’s a catch. He can feel it in his bones.

“But—“

Oh. There it is.

“The singer is known to be, uh, somewhat _temperamental.”_

Yunho drops his shoulders. He can handle temperamental. Yunho lives with Heechul, for God’s sake. He shrugs and says, “I can do it.”

His boss rolls his lips between his chunky teeth. “Well.” He leans forward. “ _Well_.”

… Well?

“His name is Shim Changmin.”

Yunho’s whole world crumbles.

 

 

The thing is, if Yunho wasn’t so far behind on his rent he would’ve just said no on the spot, no question about it.

But the truth is, he’s about two seconds away from getting kicked out from his house because Heechul’s had to pay rent for him the last three months and it’s not exactly like Heechul’s overly well off, either. Yunho’s been living on shitty instant food that costs five dollars a bundle, and he just _really_ wants a salad and some steady proper meals.

So in the end, the money wins out over his hatred.

He can do this, he thinks. Six months isn’t a long time and he can just avoid Shim Changmin as much as possible, right?

 

 

 

Yunho rocks up for his first day of work five minutes later, which _totally_ wasn’t his fault, because Heechul’s cat, Heebum, made a break for the front door and leaped out into their apartment hall, and Heechul was all like, “I just did my hair, I can’t run”, and Yunho couldn’t just _leave_ the cat to fend for itself. Yunho had to chase the fucking cat for a whole fifteen minutes before he was able to drag it back inside. He gained some nice scratches all over his arms for the effort, too, and all Heechul did was grunt his thanks over his gossip magazine. Yunho loves Heechul, he really does, but he doesn’t think he’s ever quite wanted to strangle someone so much before.

Well, possibly until this very moment.

“Why are you late, new kid?” someone snips as soon as Yunho bursts through the doors, panting from the run here.

Changmin’s facing him with his arms on his hips, and Yunho thinks he’s even more intimidating in person. His eyes are so dark they’re almost black, and they look like they’re about to catch on fire with the intense burning stare he’s sending at Yunho. He’s quite handsome, and the pictures don’t really do him justice. His nose is a little too large for his face, and his lips are full and naturally curve down, but it somehow just fits. His jaw’s sharp enough to grate a variety of vegetables, and he’s tall and very bean pole-ish looking around the middle, but he’s got these thick arms that make Yunho gulp.

Yunho thinks it’s pretty rich that he’s calling him _kid,_ seeing as Yunho is a whole two years older than him, but he has to be nice. He just has to ride this shitty job out for a few months, and then he’s going to walk out with a nice wad of cash flapping in his back pocket.

Yes, Yunho can do _nice._

He tacks on a smile so fake that anyone looking at it could see the sarcasm spilling out of the corners. “I’m very sorry. Sir,” he tacks on, just to be nice. “There was an incident on the way to work, and—“

“Does it look like I care? It’s your first day, and you couldn’t even get here on time?” his voice is soft but eerily demanding. “I thought your boss said you were the best of the lot, but,” he looks him up and down, “you don’t seem anything special.”

The rest of his back up dancers are exchanging weary looks that make Yunho think this definitely isn’t the first time this has happened. “Yes, well, I do apologise. I hope we can get on from here forward.”

Yunho lets out a horribly derisive scoff and turns around. “Oh, _sure._ ”

If Yunho thought his smile was sarcastic, Changmin is downright _sardonic._

Yunho doesn’t think he’s ever quite wanted to punch someone so much in his life. The kid’s speaking to him informally, as well, and he’s almost certain that Shim Changmin knows he’s older, but just doesn’t care.

“At least make yourself useful and stand in position. You guys,” he snaps his fingers at the rest of the dancers, and Yunho’s jaw almost drops but he restrains himself. The other dancers are clearly, _clearly_ much older than Changmin, yet he’s ordering them around like dogs?

Yunho doesn’t want to stand for this, but he bites his tongue. For _now._

A man significantly shorter than him saunters up. He’s well built with honey brown hair, sharp eyes, and has this weird one sided dimple when he sends a small smile to Yunho.

“I’m Leeteuk, the lead dancer.”

Yunho bows and introduces himself.

Leeteuk points at an empty space in the triangle formation and says, “That’s your spot. We’ll go over the moves and positions properly later on, and I’ll give you a tape to look at when you’re home. Just, for now,” he glances at Shim Changmin and shrugs, “just try not to piss him off.”

Yunho sighs.

His boss was right. Shim Changmin isn’t as horrible as he expected.

He’s worse.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

“We need someone to partner up with Changmin to do the solo. It’s a good opportunity to get ahead, but it means five days a week training in close contact with him.”

Everyone looks at each other.

Leeteuk looks at Yunho and everyone follows suit.

“Um,” Yunho says.

Leeteuk nods. “Yunho will do it.”

“But—“

Before he can even finish his protest, the dancers and nodding their agreements and speaking over his pathetic please ‘no wait’s’ and ‘but he hates me’.

Yunho reaches a hand out as if looking for help, but everyone’s packing up their things and rushing for the door. Changmin’s manager coughs into his hand when the room goes empty. “Well, I guess that sorts it.”

 

* * *

 

 

 

Changmin’s manager hands him a cup of coffee, then a little miniature bottle with a label Yunho squints to see. He feels a jolt in his chest when he realises it’s Baileys, and Changmin’s actually fucking pouring into this coffee. His _morning_ coffee.

Yunho feels numb with rage, upset, and confusion.

He remembers this scene with utmost clarity.

He remember his sister stumbling in at three in the morning so fucked that she couldn’t even walk. He remembers the way his dad shouted, and the words he said, like the back of hand. It’s like a litany carved in his chest, and every time he’s around the repugnant stuff that broke up his family, well, he can’t help but feel hollow inside. The memories assault him with every drop he sees, and watching someone right in plain sight drink before it’s even lunch time, and to see someone else _enabling_ it…

It burns from his throat to his stomach, just the way spirits feel when they go down, and he clenches his fist. He may not like Shim Changmin, but he can’t just sit and watch him kill himself like this.

 

The performance goes off so well that the team decides to reserve a bar and party all night long (using the companies money). Changmin had complained, obviously, but his manager had a few stiff words to him and finally he rolled his eyes and tagged along. He takes his own car.

Yunho cabbies with Leeteuk and Eunhyuk, and by the time he’s reached the club he’s laughed so hard that his stomach hurts and he’s got tears in his eyes. Somehow they’d gotten onto the topic of failed sexual encounters, and Eunhyuk had the most hilarious ones that Yunho couldn’t control himself.

Yunho chooses to keeps his encounters to himself, but he’s very eager to listen.

They stumble out of the cab with raucous laughter, causing the security guard to give them a suspicious look as they walked nearer to the entrance. He lets them in without a fuss, but doesn’t forget to give them the stink eye. The rest of the team is there, and they’ve all swiped a couple of booths and tables, cliques forming between them. Yunho goes around and greets them all, staying to chat for a few minutes before moving on to another table. The buzz of energy and conversation helps ease the spinning he gets in his stomach every time he sees someone downing a drink. Yunho’s done a full round before he realises that he hasn’t seen Changmin anywhere. He frowns, because he knows the younger man did come—but then again Yunho wouldn’t be surprised if he’d turned his car around half way and decided not to come. He’s just about to curse Changmin out in his head for being a spoil sport when he catches a flash of the tall man stalking through the bar, head down and hands in pockets. He passes by all the booths and takes a stool straight at the bar, motioning something to the barkeep who’s trying to keep the star struck look off his face.

Yunho just watches. He’s not sure why he’s so interested, it’s just… this is supposed to be a work party where people come to have fun and enjoy themselves, but Changmin walks in here like he’s getting ready for a death sentence. Yunho knows that he doesn’t get along with, well, _anyone_ really, but he expected maybe just a nod of greeting. The bartender drops three shots of clear liquid, which Yunho can only assume is vodka, in front of Changmin. He picks one up and traces the rim before taking a big breath and downing all three in quick succession.

He doesn’t even gag.

Yunho feels… he doesn’t know what to feel. The scene plays out in his head like a record stuck on repeat. Three shots, head down, shoulders hunched. He remembers this scene all too vividly.

Yunho doesn’t even know he’s moving until he feels his foot connect to the floor in front of him. He wades through the heavy smoke and loud music until he’s right near Changmin. Up close, he looks even more pathetic. He’s running his fingernail over the hardwood and holding his head up with the other hand. He doesn’t even look up when Yunho scrapes the barstool next to him out and takes a seat.

“Three shots in one is a lot to take,” he says neutrally.

Changmin frowns and buries into his palm before finally gaining the energy to look up at Yunho.

“And?” He sounds bored and like he couldn’t care less what Yunho has to say.

Yunho shrugs and leans forward so he’s got a better look at Changmin’s face. He looks like he’s half asleep, and also terribly grumpy. The bar livens around them, and they darken into each other. The thrum of some old jazz song does nothing to lessen the concentration Yunho’s putting in at looking at Changmin.

He flags the waiter and asks for a two shots of whiskey.

The bartender looks a little flustered, like he knows he shouldn’t be serving this much alcohol to only one person within such a short time frame, but he scurries off when he sees the look that Changmin shoots him. Yunho swears that the younger man’s got actual lasers coming out of his eyes sometimes. He can literally make you wither under his glare.

Changmin downs the two shots of amber as soon as they’re set in front of him. Yunho sits on his hand to stop himself from reaching out to stop him. He knows it’s not really his business, but it sure does feel like it.

Instead, he tries to persuade Changmin to slow down with words. “Aren’t you going to slow down?”

Changmin raises his eyebrows and turns to look at Yunho for the first time properly. “I’m sorry?”

“I said, aren’t you going to—“

“I heard what you said,” he snaps, eyebrows drawn together so far they almost connect. “I’m just wondering how that’s any of your fucking business? I’m sure you enjoy getting drunk just as much as the next guy. Take a look behind you, your friends are chugging beer and are probably placing bets on who can vomit first, so why’re you lecturing me?” His words are like acid, but his tongues slow and awkward within his mouth.

Yunho holds in the sigh. It’s different. It’s _worlds_ different, because none of his friends are sitting in a dark corner and drinking shot after shot just for the sake of it. None of them are alone, but Changmin is. He’s so, so alone.

“I don’t drink. And my friends can take care of themselves.”

Changmin rolls his eyes and raises one of the empty shot glasses in the air in a mocking toast. “ _Oh,_ ” he laughs, “what a good boy you are. Want a fucking medal for it?”

Yunho bites the insides of his cheeks and glares at him. If looks could kill, Changmin would be six feet under.

“And, um, I guess I should say thank you for your concern, but I _can_ take care of myself so,” he waves his hand at Yunho dismissively, “fuck off.”

Yunho’s shoulders hackle and square off. “Doesn’t look like that to me.”

Changmin goes from disinterested and mocking to icy rage within a second. He pulls his lips around his teeth and leans towards Yunho, crowding his personal space. He’s so close that Yunho’s eyes water from the sting of alcohol fanning over his face and Changmin breaths through his mouth, warm and harsh. The stiffening smell puts him on high alert and he straightens his back.

Changmin sizes him up. “And who the fuck are you to tell me that? I would’ve stayed at home if I wanted a lecture from my fucking mother.”

His words spark something painful in Yunho’s chest, and he leans even closer until their faces are just barely inches away. He’s a mix between hurt, frustration, anger, and helplessness. “What, are you that afraid that maybe someone gives a shit if you’re okay or not?”

Changmin laughs out loud now, hollow and sarcastic. “Wow, okay yeah, I’m _so_ sure you give a shit about me.” He scoffs and shakes his head, waving the bartender for a shot of vodka. “You’re not the first person who’s tried to step in and ‘ _fix me’_ out of some skewed sense of responsibility, and you won’t be the last, but guess what? I really could not care any less. Go save your hero complex for someone who actually wants it. I’m sure you can pick up some drunk slut who’ll more than happy to have you _save_ her for the night.”

Changmin’s smirking, but it gets wiped off his face when Yunho reaches for his collar and tugs it around his neck in warning. “I’m just trying to help,” he hisses. “At the rate you’re going you’ll pass out within the hour.”

Changmin grabs Yunho’s hand and throws it off heavily. “Like I said, don’t need it, don’t care. I’ve had a bad day and would really appreciate it if you would just go back to your little friends and leave me the fuck alone.”

Yunho throws his hands up in the air and scoffs. “Fine. Suit yourself.” It hurts him to walk away, but he’s not getting anywhere with him while the younger’s so pumped up on alcohol. He joins his friends, and they all tease him about his refusal to drink and try to force a beer down his throat. Yunho just smiles tightly and stays polite even though he wants to snap. He’s had enough of the sickening smell, and he wants out.

Changmin’s manager stumbles over to their table while Kangin’s guzzling something suspicious looking through a funnel and says, “I think I’m gonna need—hic—one of you to take Changmin home. He can’t even walk.”

As one, the table turns to Yunho and he groans.

“Yunho’s sober, he can do it,” Leeteuk pipes up.

The group mumbles their assent, not looking him in the eye and looking a little guilty.

Yunho sighs and says okay. The only reason Yunho ends up agreeing is that he really, really wants to go and lie down in his hotel room and have a nice hot shower.

He calls a taxi, and five minutes before it’s supposed to arrive, Yunho finds Changmin slumped against the bar mumbling something under his breath.

“Hey, hey Changmin we’re gonna go home, okay?”

The bartender mouths thank you over the half passed out boy, and Yunho gives him a strained smile.

Changmin groans and complains, flapping his arms around everywhere in an attempt to protest. Luckily, Yunho is strong from all his years of dancing, so he can lift the guy and hold his arm around his shoulder, dragging him out. His feet skip and tumble over the floor, but somehow they make it outside through the back door. The front has a few Sasaeng fans camping outside, so he gets permission to escort Changmin out through the back entrance. Changmin is surprisingly light for someone so tall.

Yunho deposits Changmin on a nearby bench and stands a few meters in front, scanning the streets for their taxi and any wandering fans. He’s holding up surprisingly well considering the amount of alcohol he’s had, and Yunho’s not even sure how many more drinks he had after he stomped away.

“You know, I’m actually surprised you haven’t thrown up—“ a gargling sound comes from behind him and Changmin’s leaning over the side of the bench, spilling the contents of his stomach onto the pavement, “…-yet.”

Yunho lets out a long suffering sigh and goes to sit next to the singer, running his hand up and down his back and patting him gently between his shoulder blades. Changmin just groans and whines, trying to speak but failing miserably.

“There, there,” Yunho says awkwardly. “You’ll feel better soon once it’s all out of your system.”

Changmin throws up again and Yunho wrinkles his nose, at least thanking the Gods above that Changmin has enough control to decide where he projects his vomit.

The taxi turns up a few minutes later, and thankfully Changmin has stopped heaving and looks marginally more sober.

The taxi driver looks at them with narrowed eyes as Yunho all but throws Changmin into the backseat. Yunho’s considering just leaving him to lie there flat against the seats, but he sighs and shuffles into the back with him, damning his moral compass to hell. He buckles Changmin in and shoves him against the door so he’s sitting at least somewhat straight, giving the taxi driver the address to the hotel. The car starts moving, and Yunho eyes Changmin from the corner of his eye, trying to make it not too obvious, but Yunho thinks even if he were staring straight at the man he wouldn’t get passed his drunken haze to even make sense of it. He’s got his eyes half open; they’re glazed and looking at nothing in particular. He looks so relaxed, and Yunho gets a pang in his chest from the sight of it. When he’s just sitting here, peaceful and not worried about the people around him, he looks so much like a child. The cheekbones that hang high on his face and make him look gaunt and scary when he’s sober suddenly look soft, and his cheeks puffy.

His musing gets cut off when Changmin gags. Yunho unbuckles his seatbelt and leaps across the backseat, rolling down the window and pulling Changmin up so his head’s half hanging of the taxi. He throws up, and although it misses the plastic interior, it spills all over the side of the taxi’s metal frame. The driver gives a shout and pulls over onto the side of the road, yelling some curses that Yunho isn’t really paying attention to because he’s too busy making sure Changmin’s okay. He stops throwing up and heaving, and the drivers yelling at them to ‘get the fuck out!’ Yunho sighs and pays the driver, pulling Changmin out by the shoulders. He just slumps on the floor, and the taxi zooms away into the distance.

Yunho sighs for the umpteenth time that night and wonders why the universe hates him so much.

He kneels down next to Changmin and asks, “can you walk?”

Changmin just laughs and slaps his knee, like it’s the funniest thing he’s head all week.

Yunho stares into the sky and sends out a silent prayer to the heavens.

Yunho isn’t quite sure where they are—they’ve been dropped off next to a row of shops. Yunho’s at least thankful there are streetlights and the area doesn’t seem particularly dodgy.

“I feel good,” Changmin giggles from the floor. He’s now lying down with his cheek squished against the pavement.

Yunho finds the nearest wall and smacks his head against it. “Yes, I’m sure you do.”

Yunho connects his phone up to the internet and types into the hotel’s address. According to the map, it’s only about a ten minute walk, which _would_ be fine if Changmin actually had the ability to walk on his own. He memorizes the path to the best of his ability and ambles up to Changmin, squatting beside him and poking him in the shoulder a few times.

“You’re gonna have to hop up on my back.”

Changmin cracks open an eye and stares at Yunho with this funny look on his face. “I don’t like boys.”

Yunho is dumbfounded. “I never… said you did.”

Changmin shrugs and holds out his arms. Yunho shuffles in front of him and holds his arms on his hips. Changmin, with much difficulty, loops his legs through the openings and wraps his arms around Yunho’s neck.

“GHGHHHKG—TOO TIGHT. CAN’T. BREATHE.”

Changmin moves his arms to wrap around Yunho’s chest instead and he takes a large gulp of air. “Thank you.”

Yunho hoists him up and almost drops him when Changmin says, “you’ve got man boobs.”

His face burns red when Changmin starts fondling them and laughing.

“I swear to God, I _will_ drop you if you keep doing that,” Yunho huffs, horribly embarrassed. He prays that Changmin won’t remember this tomorrow. This whole night has been nothing but a disaster, so if Changmin’s brain erases all memories of it, he will be more than grateful.

Changmin gives them one last pat then links his hands together, hanging just on his breast bone.

Changmin wiggles on his back and buries his chin into Yunho’s shoulder. “I get honest when I’m drunk.”

“I can see that.”

Yunho navigates his way through a wrong street and cries in his head. He fishes his phone from his pocket and briefly wonders if Changmin will be able to direct him in his state. Probably not, Yunho thinks, and there’s more of a chance that Changmin would end up dropping it and smashing it on the pavement, and then they would _really_ be screwed. He re-runs the directions through his head before taking off again.

Changmin’s silent until he breaks it with a snap comment that makes Yunho roll his eyes. “I don’t like boys.”

“Yes, so I’ve heard a thousand times through the internet.”

Changmin nods and melts into Yunho. “As long as you know.”

Yunho predictably gets lost about three times on the way, and the trip ends up taking closer to twenty minutes. His shoulders and back have never ached this badly in his life. Although Changmin is light for his _size,_ he certainly isn’t heavy.

When he reaches the entrance of the hotel he almost cries in relief.

“We’re here,” Yunho announces, and Changmin stiffens on his back.

“Put me down.”

Yunho doesn’t really think Changmin’s in any state to be able to walk so he holds his hands out to catch him just in case, but surprisingly he stands up quite straight. His walking is… definitely not as straight, but at least he’s not face planting into the carpet. Yunho counts it as a blessing.

 

Yunho tries to put his arm around Changmin’s shoulder, but he’s knocked off by the grumpy star who’s mumbling some swears under his breath. Yunho settles for walking just close enough that if Changmin falls, he can grab a hold of him, but not _too_ close, or he’ll surely start bitching at him for invading his person space or whatever. The get into the elevator, and this horrid Christmas jingle that is completely time inappropriate starts tinkling away in the background.

It just makes it that much more awkward.

“What’s your floor?”

Changmin kind of shrugs and makes this weird hand gesture in an upwards direction. “The top one, I guess.”

Yunho stares at him incredulously before turning to face the keypad, picking the highest floor he can find besides the roof. “You _guess,_ ” he mutters to himself, so soft even Changmin can’t hear in the confined space.

He crosses his arms and leans against the rail, deliberately looking at the door and not facing Changmin even though they’re angled right opposite.

“Why weren’t you drinking… tonight?” Changmin asks, swaying so unsteadily Yunho thinks he should probably go over there and hold his shoulder or something, but he’s too pissy at the idol to really bother giving him any help.

The question catches him off guard, because it’s the first time Changmin has ever inquired into his personal life. Usually it’s just snipes about his appearance, dancing, and clothing choices, but he seems to be asking Yunho a genuine question here. Yunho figures that Changmin’s not even going to remember this in the morning judging by the state of him, so he gives an honest answer.

“I don’t drink. Don’t like alcohol or what it does.”

Changmin sighs and nods like he understands, but considering he’s so fucking wasted himself that he can barely even stand and looked like he enjoyed the experience enough, Yunho thinks he hasn’t got a clue.

“I get it. Yeah.”

Yunho doesn’t bother answering, but he sees Changmin look down and stare at his shoes. His face turns stony, more so than usual (which Yunho thinks is quite the admirable feat), and he starts giving his shoelaces an inordinate amount of attention. The elevator dings on Changmin’s floor, and Yunho shuffles out. He hears the absence of footsteps behind him and turns, confused.

“This _is_ your floor, right?”

Changmin doesn’t answer, and Yunho holds his hand in front of the sensor to stop it from closing. “Changmin! Come on, you can’t just—“

Yunho stops. He stops, and he just _stares,_ because he finally realises that Changmin is _crying._ He’s making these pitiful little sniffles and biting his lip, and Yunho has no fucking idea what to do, because _what, what, what?_

Yunho thinks absentmindedly that Changmin really _does_ have a heart, if he’s capable of crying.

He stares for a good twenty seconds until the elevator starts complaining about being open for too long. He takes one step into the elevator, still in front of the door, and reaches a hand out towards Changmin, hesitating before he touches him then pulling his hand back. “Are you… okay?” Yunho’s a bit scared he’s going to be yelled at for asking, but Changmin does no such thing. He doesn’t even react, and now Yunho is really worried, because what if he’s really sick or something? He does reach out this time and grab a hold of Changmin’s shirt sleeve, then drags him onto the floor all reserved for him and only him. Yunho thinks it’s very convenient right now. The elevator door shuts and zooms away, and Yunho is left standing there, staring a teary eyed Changmin. Yunho thinks that he should probably like, pat his shoulder or something and try to make him feel better, but he’s not quite sure what is and what isn’t appropriate when it comes to the younger. Changmin sways on his feet a bit, and Yunho’s going to reach out to steady him but then he lets out a bark of laughter up to the ceiling, which quickly turns into a sob. He squats to the floor and hugs his knees, falling back on his bottom and burying his face between his legs.

Yunho realises that Changmin is more fucked up than he could’ve ever imagined.

Changmin sobs for another few seconds, but then he takes a deep breath and holds it all down. He presses his palms against his eyes so hard he leaves red indents around the sockets when he takes them away. He’s stopped crying by the time his hands are off, and Yunho feels horribly disturbed. He just watched someone practically have some kind of mental breakdown in front of him, and now Changmin looks like nothing has even happened. Yunho would be doubting his memory if it wasn’t for the red, puffy eyes and lips.

Changmin holds out his arm and Yunho flinches. “Key card. Give it to me.”

Yunho stands dumbly for a second before registering the request, fishing in his back pocket and digging it out.

Changmin snatches it from him and looks at him with those ice cold eyes he’s so used to. “You should go.”

Changmin doesn’t have to say it twice, because Yunho is spinning on his heel and speed walking towards the elevator. Yunho is shaken beyond words, and his hand trembles as he swipes the key card to his room.

He hardly sleeps a wink that night, the image of Changmin breaking then repairing himself within seconds repeating over and over in his mind until the sun peeks through the curtains and hits him in the eyes.

He just hopes Changmin doesn’t remember.

 

 

Group practice the next morning is a disaster.

The whole team groan and moan, and their steps are so pathetic that they end up taking six breaks within an hour to recuperate. Even when Changmin’s manager comes in he doesn’t scold the boys because he looks just as bad off. He kind of just waves his hand and says, “good job”, then pulls his hat over his face and naps in a corner. The boys all stare at him with a mix of envy and hatred.

Yunho can’t gauge Changmin’s reaction to what happened last night because he won’t even spare a glance in his direction—but to be fair he never usually does, anyway. He’s nervous about it, because he’s not quite sure how Changmin will react to being taken care of. From the little that Yunho knows about Changmin, he knows that he can’t stand to be taken care of. Yet, Yunho did just that, and beyond, last night.

Then there was the crying…

He’s extra nervous about that. He absolutely a hundred percent sure that Changmin hadn’t wanted him to see that, and if he was going to be pissed about Yunho dragging him home and carrying him on his shoulders, well, he was going to be downright _pissed_ if he remembers. Yunho’s almost shaking just at the thought. He pulls himself together, somewhat, but it’s hard to get the worry out of his mind. He can’t even push it to the back of his mind as he dances because no-one is even doing anything. They’re all just slacking around and making some half-hearted gestures that could be compared to a dance move if a two year old was doing it.

The day drags on, and Yunho drinks so much water that he ends up needing to pee three times in one hour.

He takes his lunch break and shovels food as fast as he can down this throat, not paying attention to the taste in the slightest. He finishes a carton of orange juice in one swoop and steels himself, trying to prepare himself for the possible-probable incoming storm.

He toes into the practice room and gulps when he sees Changmin leaning against the mirror, scrolling through his phone.

Yunho doesn’t say hello, and neither does Changmin.

Yunho puts his bag down and just stands in the corner of the room awkwardly with his hands by his sides, waiting. He doesn’t want to make the first move, because he wants Changmin to think he’s in control of the situation. So he waits.

And waits.

_And waits._

It takes Changmin twenty long minutes to put his phone back in his bag and walk over to the tape recorder. The electric beat of Keep Your Head down starts playing, and Yunho stays frozen and he watches Changmin shuffle to the middle of the room, facing the mirrors.

Changmin snaps his fingers at where Yunho should be standing. “Get in position.”

Yunho scrambles to obey.

Changmin takes the first dance, and Yunho dances the background moves behind him. Despite being hung over, Changmin is now showing an amazing amount of passion. The tape recorder skips through the unnecessary bits, and far too soon their duo dance comes up. The dance the victory steps, and soon they’ve turned to each other after Changmin’s high note.

Yunho gulps and they take measured steps up to each other. Usually, they have a good amount of distance between them, but this time Changmin gets right up in his face. Yunho flicks his arm on by the side of Changmin’s face, then holds his arm over Changmin’s collarbone, staring him right in the eye though he wants to be looking anywhere else. Changmin’s eyes are like fire, and he’s mouthing the words overly aggressively.

_Why?_

_You let go of our love so easily,_

He leans right into Yunho’s face and digs his fingernails into Yunho’s chest, pushing him away and clawing at his chest. One of his nails scratches the skin above the line of his shirt, and Yunho hisses and stumbles back, barely able to control himself from taking a tumble. Changmin advances on him again and holds his fist right next to Yunho’s cheek.

_Did you ever think that someone would get worried?_

_I don’t think you know yet_

_Exactly what you just let go of_

Instead of turning his head away to sing the last line at the audience, Changmin stares right at Yunho and yells out the last line:

_Why? Just remain there and watch me grow_

Changmin takes a step forward and pushes Yunho back so hard that Yunho does trip over his feet, but luckily stays standing.

The whole dance only lasted about thirty seconds, but Yunho’s heart is pounding and his chest is aching and red.

Changmin steps forward, aggressive. “Aren’t you going to put any force into it?”

Yunho stays silent. He’s almost certain now that Changmin remembers exactly what happened last night, and this is way of saying ‘fuck you’ without bringing it up.

“You call that a _performance?_ I should’ve hired someone else if you were going to be like this!” He gets right up in Yunho’s space and hackles his shoulders. “You didn’t even have a drop to drink last night, did you, so what’s your excuse?”

Yunho bites his lip and then blurts. “I’m sorry.”

Changmin stares at him with wide eyes and his words get caught in his throat. He looks like he doesn’t know how to respond to the apology. He opens his mouth and closes it, then opens it again. “Get back into your spot. Let’s try again.”

They do, and this time Changmin is worlds more gentle. They collapse onto the floor after their twelfth rerun with no breaks in-between, and Yunho stares at Changmin as he gulps down a bottle of water.

“I won’t say anything, you know. I’m not like that.”

Changmin screws the cap back on his water bottle and looks back at Yunho with a conflicted look on his face. “That’s what everyone always says.”

Yunho’s heart breaks for reasons he can’t explain. He stands up as Changmin goes to shuffle away and holds his shoulder, urging him to spin around. He does, and he look at Yunho with this horribly tortured look that he looks like he wants to conceal but can’t.

“You can trust me. I’m not like that,” Yunho says, and he pours every inch of sincerity into his words that make Changmin try and understand.

He looks conflicted and hurt, and Yunho has never seen him be so vulnerable and open in all the time that they’ve known each other. Changmin looks like he wants to believe what Yunho’s saying. He looks like he wants nothing more than to open his heart and accept the promise for what it is, but he can’t quite fiddle the lock right to let the door open.

So Yunho says, “I went the bed until I was ten.” He feels ridiculous saying it out loud, but if it makes Changmin feel better then it’s worth it.

Changmin blinks. “What?”

“Now you know something embarrassing about me, so if I ever say anything about what happened, then you can drop that bomb on everyone. It’s like, reverse blackmail, on each other.”

Changmin thinks this over, then he softens, and softens, and he relaxes so much his shoulders drop down by a whole three inches.

“Okay,” he says in a soft voice. Then he looks up and the corner of his mouth twitches up. It’s a honest to God smile, although tiny and half hearted, and Yunho feels rooted to the spot in surprise. “You really wet the bed until you were ten?”

Yunho goes bright red. “Shut up. I had a weak bladder and overactive dreams.”

Changmin lets out this sound that Yunho thinks might be a real laugh, and his chest is buzzing with excitement at the sound. He’s known Changmin for two months, and this is the first time he’s ever seen him smile or laugh.

He feels incredibly proud, so he smiles back in full and laughs along.

Changmin turns away and hides his mouth behind his hand and waits a few seconds before telling Yunho to get back into his spot because they’re going to go over it again.

Yunho spends the rest of the day smiling.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

One of the male stylists that’s new on set approaches Changmin and taps him on the shoulder. He just about gets his head bitten off for it, and Changmin is swearing and cursing at him for touching him without his permission. “Did nobody teach you any fucking manners when you were young? Do you not realise it’s rude to touch people you don’t know?”

Yunho thinks it’s a bit rich that he’s shouting and swearing at the stylist about manners when he’s so much older.

The stylist bows and bows again. Yunho’s afraid he might injure his back with how many times and how far he’s leaning down to bow in apology. He looks terribly upset and flustered, like he’s not quite sure what’s happened. It’s obvious he’s not familiar with the controversies surrounding the celebrity Shim Changmin. Yunho thinks he’ll take pity on the man later and explain why he got chewed out so badly, but. Not right now. He doesn’t want to unsettle the delicate water they’re got pooled between them, and especially not right before stage when Changmin has to push him back. He’s not putting it past the younger boy to try getting revenge on stage.

Yunho starts stretching again, and it’s just by coincidence that he’s bending over at the right angle to see a female staff that he knows is a new girl on the staff, and that Changmin doesn’t know, but when she taps Changmin on the shoulder he just turns. No complaints. No shouting.

Yunho frowns into his stretch and keeps observing the interaction. Changmin speaks calmly to the girl, and she’s quite obviously flirting with him. He thinks that Changmin might be, god forbid, being _friendly._

He frowns and digs at his memories, remember all the stories he was told through the internet and through the staff about how Changmin was like with women. Playboy rumours always surrounded him, and Yunho had heard once that Changmin had slept with a hundred different women in _one_ year. He thinks it a tad ridiculous to be honest, but he can definitely see the superstar having a proclivity for sleeping around by the way he’s treating this girl.

He scoffs and rolls his eyes to himself, even though he’s not even sure why it’s any of his business or place to judge. Objectively, he knows he’s just being rude and unfair, but it just pours more fuel on his flame to help him look down on the star.

Well, Yunho thinks, at least he _knows_ he’s being an asshole about it.

 

One of the female staff with cropped black hair and round eyes who’s fussing with a clothes rack behind him pauses and takes in the scene. She whispers something to her blonde friend who giggles and shakes her head, saying “no, no _way._ ”

The round eyed staff shrugs and asks, “why not? It kind of looks like he likes her.”

The blonde snorts. She’s short, tubby, and kind of butch looking with mean eyes, and Yunho immediately doesn’t like her. “Yeah. No. I don’t think so.”

Yunho perks up and cranes his ear in their direction. He was a nosy piece of shit, he would admit that much.

Leeteuk saunters up to the two gossipers and attempts to look smooth by saying, “what’s up, ladies?”

They share an uncertain glance before the blonde scratches her jaw and leans in a bit, casting a wary look around the room. “We’re talking about that girl,” she jerks her thumb in Changmin’s direction, and Yunho thinks she can’t be subtle to save her life. “Like, Yuri thinks that they’re gonna get together or something, but like… _you know_.”

Evidently neither of them do and she huffs out a sigh. “Do you guys not listen to the gossip around here? Practically _everyone_ knows the rumour.”

Yunho shifts onto his butt as inches closer under the guise of changing into a new stretch. He leans over to his right and reaches for his toes.

The blonde looks terribly excited, like she’s about to dish out some really delicious gossip. “Right, so like, you know Changmin’s got all these girls hitting on him day and night right? Wherever he goes girls are trying to get with him. But the thing is, he flirts back with all these girls right, but not one, not _one_ can say that he’s ever brought them home with him. Like, he has all the girls in the world, literally, to choose from, but he doesn’t swing. Like what the fuck is up with that? And everyone started noticing it and were like, is he abstinent or something? But then like, remember Kara who used to work here?”

Leeteuk and the black haired girl share an uncertain nod, like they have no idea but don’t particularly care anyway.

“Anyway, whatever, so Kara says that one day she’s going home, and she’s been held back for like an hour because they didn’t have enough staff to clean, and like, as she was walking through the halls and it was pretty empty ‘cause the events for the day were finished, she went passed the change rooms. And she saw, you know that gay celebrity, shit, I don’t remember his name, but it’s not confirmed he’s gay or anything, but everyone knows it anyway. And yeah, she says she saw them together and swears black and blue that this gay dude was hitting on Changmin, and Changmin was _totally_ into it. He was like brushing the hair behind his hair and all that flirty shit. Then the gay dude kisses Changmin and you know, Changmin doesn’t pull away. She left pretty quickly after that, but.”

Leeteuk kind of scrunches up his face, looking thoroughly overwhelmed by the barrage of knowledge. “So you’re saying…?”

She rolls her eyes. “I’m saying, he’s _gay,_ you idiot.”

Yunho’s stomach drops and he thinks he’s going to feel sick.

Changmin can’t be gay. He just _can’t._

He jumps off the floor and heads to the bathroom, walking fast and holding a hand to his stomach. He bursts in and locks himself in a stall and sits on the toilet lid. He lets his head drop into his hand, and he lets out a shaky breath, filled with emotion.

He suddenly feels a whole lot like crying.

 

He sits awake in his bed with the covers thrown off. They suffocate him, and he feels like he’s drowning beneath the weight. He never normally touches alcohol, but he wants to feel the relief Changmin does when the liquid disappears passed his tongue.

Yunho thinks the world is a fucking cruel place.

That God would choose to make Changmin of all people gay makes him hurt all over. The hundreds of articles and rumours fly through his mind and play over and over, distorting like a broken record as he stitches it together with the reality.

The more he thinks about it, the more it makes sense.

Changmin flinches when guys touch him. He acts cagey and frustrated whenever they get near him, and the more he plays out the reactions in his head when Changmin’s with men, the more he realises he was distancing himself. He was pulling himself into a shell and protecting himself from what he viewed as a threat.

He recognises it so well, because Heechul was exactly the same at first. He couldn’t interact with any guys without feeling awkward and uncomfortable when he found out. Heechul got over it pretty quickly when he decided he really didn’t care if he was into dick. Apparently, Changmin never did get past it.

He remembers the night he carried Changmin home, and he was so insistent that he didn’t like men.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“I don’t get it. Why won’t you just admit that you’re lonely?”

Changmin drops his beer bottle between his thighs and thumbs at the mouth. “It’s not just a simple matter of being _lonely,_ Yunho. It’s… way more complicated then you know. And anyway, even if I admit that yeah, I’m lonely, I’ve got no-one right now, what’s it going to do for me? Like, oh great, I’ve admitted aloud what I’ve known for years, but only out loud.” He shrugs and takes another swig from the bottle.

Yunho stares at the amber liquid disappearing through his lips and he feels sick at the sight of it. “It’s good to get things off your chest. Knowing that someone else knows is good for you, you know? That way you don’t have to carry all of the burden by yourself, when you know someone else has got your back and knows what you’re going through.”

Changmin laughs, and each breath of air is punctuated with ice. “Yeah, sure, that’s great for most people, except I don’t have any constants in my life, you realise. I don’t have my family, I don’t have my band members, and all my friends in the industry have tucked their fucking tails between their legs and made a break for it as soon as the lawsuit went down. It’s just how it is for me.”

“Well you could, I don’t know, start by making friends?” Yunho suggests.

Changmin raises his eyebrows incredulously. “Yunho, I literally do not think there’s anyone in this _earth_ who wants to be my friend. I don’t know if you keep up with what’s going on around you ‘cause you’re so god damn absent minded, but everyone’s lining up with a knife in their back pocket and if the opportunity passes, I’m sure they’d take a stab.”

“Well,” Yunho says, “I think wanting to _murder_ you is slightly extreme.”

“It’s a metaphor, dumbass.”

Yunho feels very small. “Oh.” He scratches at his nose and scrunches up his face in thought. “Well.” He suddenly feels a bit shy about it. “We could be friends.”

Changmin stares at him with wide eyes like he’s not quite sure what he’s hearing. “Um, I’m sorry?”

Yunho twiddles with his fingers and looks everywhere but Changmin. “I said, we could be friends. Like, and if you need… someone to, you know, share the burden or whatever. I could. Do that.”

Changmin doesn’t stop staring. “Um. Yunho. I’m not exactly sure if you’ve thought this through considering last week you were telling me you wanted to, in polite terms, curb stop me.”

“We could be frenemies.”

Changmin’s neck goes loose and he drops his head, staring at Yunho like he’s gone mad. “Um, what? What the fuck are frenemies?”

“You know,” Yunho says, making some unnecessarily wild gestures. “It’s like, a mix of the word enemy and friend. Okay, I do admit, I really want to punch your face in sometimes, and I’m sure you feel the same about me. But, in truth, we’re the closest two people to each other here, right? I mean all of our work is centred around each other because of this gig, and naturally we end up spending time together, so we can hate each other but like, in a friendly way, you feel?”

Changmin just keeps staring. “You’re fucked in the head, Jung Yunho. I’m serious. You should go see a doctor or something.”

Yunho pouts. “I’m just trying to be _nice._ ”

Changmin makes a disgusted face and shuffles away. “Don’t pout at me. That’s gross and weird. And I refuse, absolutely _refuse_ to have some shitty weird title that you’ve decided on like frenemies. We’re one or the other.”

Yunho scratches his chin. “Well I suppose we can just be friends then, right? You’re just a friend I want to punch. I’m sure that’s much more common than one would imagine.”

“Distant friends,” Changmin pitches in. “Very distant, very, very distant friends. Who don’t tell people they’re friends.”

Yunho makes a face. “Right. Very specific of you.”

Changmin eyes him suspiciously. “I have to be, when it comes to you. You’re like a puppy, I throw you a bone and then you sit beside me and beg to give you more. So I’m just setting boundaries that you can understand. It’s not too difficult, yeah? We’re friends on tour, and then I go home, you go home, and our very, very distant friendship comes to an end.”

Yunho nods and decides to ignore the whole puppy comment considering they’ve just solidified their relationship. “Right. It’s like a friendship of convenience. You don’t bite my head off twenty four seven, and you can unload your burdens on me, or whatever. Don’t worry, I’m an excellent secret keeper.”

 

 

Changmin looks at this phone and scowls at the text message.

“Who’s got you looking so grumpy?”

Changmin sighs. “My mum.” He types back something, using so much force on the screen that Yunho thinks it might crack.

Yunho worries whether it’s territory he’s allowed to breach yet. “Do you not get along with your family?”

“I do.” He sends the message off and turns off his phone, tucking it back in his jacket pocket.

Yunho cocks his head. “Um, did you have a fight or something?”

Changmin just looks at him.

“You just kind of seemed… unhappy.” Yunho’s trying to keep this as neutral as possible.

Changmin runs his tongue over his lip and looks at his feet, wiggling his toes around in his socks. “No, we didn’t fight. I love my mum.” He says it like it explains everything which it completely doesn’t.

“So?” Yunho keeps prying. He wants to crack Changmin open, just to take a peek. He has to admit, he’s kind of enraptured by the singer. He’s like a hundred different people at once, like he’s not quite sure what side of his personality he wants to show. Yunho thinks sometimes he sees Shim Changmin instead of Choikang Changmin, but in all honestly he’s not quite sure where one starts and the other begins. He’s not even sure that Changmin knows.

Changmin shifts and scratches at his forehead. He looks like he’s debating whether or not to snap at Yunho or answer honestly. He chooses the former. Obviously.

“Why is it any of your business?”

Yunho holds up his hands. “I’m not trying to pry,” Yunho says, but he totally is, “or be rude. I just wanted to see if you’re okay.”

“Fine. My mum loves me.”

“I’m sure she does.”

Changmin shakes his head like Yunho’s missing something really obvious. “You don’t get it. She _loves_ me.”

Yunho really, really doesn’t get it. “And that’s not a good thing…?”

Changmin just sighs and stands up, dusting his hands together. “Let’s run through it again.”

Well, Yunho thinks at least he has something to puzzle himself with a night when he can’t fall asleep.

 

Yunho thinks about it.

And thinks about it.

Then thinks about it some more.

Suddenly it’s three in the morning and Yunho really hates his life.

He sighs and decides to roll out of bed, since he’s not getting any shut eye, anyway. He adjusts his pyjama pants and shuffles to Heechul’s room; it’s a Friday so he’s almost certain the red head will be up.

Heechul’s up like he expected, still playing StarCraft. Yunho thinks it’s a miracle that he’s even able to function when he sleeps so little and games so much.

Yunho collapses onto Heechul’s bed and groans. Heechul spares him an irritated look and snaps, “why are you still awake?”

Yunho shoves his face into the covers so hard it’s suffocating him and makes an incoherent sound, flapping his arm around in ways of explanation.

“Right, well I’m versing Kyuhyun so if you don’t mind…”

Yunho grumbles, waving his hand then coming up for a gulp of air. Eventually he gets bored with just rolling around on the bed and pulls up a chair next to Heechul. He watches the game progress and sees a variation of insults being slung back and forth between the chat box.

_‘I fucked your mother just as hard as I fucked your base’_

_‘i’ve had cocks harder up my ass than this game’_

_‘give me a minute punk and I’ll come and fucking kick your ass’_

Yunho just feels glad he’s not involved in the crossfire. Heechul and Kyuhyun love each other, they really do, but when they argue everyone who’s ever come into acquaintance with them knows to back the fuck off. When they _really_ fight, well, it hasn’t happened yet, but Yunho is already terrified at the prospect.

“Heechul?”

Heechul’s eye twitches and he bites back, “what? I’m busy.”

Yunho ignores this. “What do you think it means if someone says their mother loves them, and then acts like it’s a bad thing?”

Heechul shrugs curtly. “Dunno. Maybe they hate their mother.”

“No, he said he loved his mother.”

Heechul clicks so fast that they start blending together. “…Who are we um—“ he destroys an enemy “—talking about?”

Yunho put his chin in his hand and sighs. “Changmin?”

“Changmin? I thought you said you hated that guy.”

“I mean, yeah, but I’m kind of curious. I don’t know, we got to talking and he texted his mum and then got angry and sad and said they loved each other. It was weird.”

Heechul frowns and an explosion sounds so loud from his headphones even Yunho can hear it.

“Well, he _is_ Shim Changmin.”

Yunho cocks a brow and says, “what does that mean?”

“He’s a fucking mess, right?”

“Heechul!” Yunho protests, smacking his friend on the arm. Heechul makes a high pitched sound and smacks Yunho’s thigh back with twice as much vigour.

“Don’t hit me just because it’s true!”

Yunho glares and Heechul rolls his eyes. “Look at you, going all soft on the boy now you know him. Anyway, what I’m trying to say is don’t you think he’s ashamed?”

“Ashamed?”

“Think of it this way: if you committed some horrible crime or something and your mother was still all like, oh no Yunho I’ll always love and support you, wouldn’t you feel kind of bad about it? Like you think you’re a shit person, but your mum still loves you all the same, and you’ve obviously let her down and everything.”

“Oh,” Yunho says, and he thinks he finally understands a little bit. “ _Oh._

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Don’t be naïve, Yunho. Everyone’s got problems, and everyone’s got an unhealthy way of coping with them. I’ve not met anyone in my life that doesn’t have a poison. So maybe mine tends to be a bit more on the destructive side than others, but it’s how I cope. I don’t think you have any business telling me what I can and can’t do to get through the day.”

Yunho bristles. “But you’ll _die.”_

Changmin laughs. “ _So what?”_

He says the words with so much flippancy that Yunho feels like he’s been punched in the chest. “What do you mean, so what?!” Yunho says, anger lacing his words. He can’t understand. He can’t understand how Changmin thinks, and why he’s like this. Why he thinks mentioning his death like it’s just some sort of inconsequential thing.

Changmin picks at this fingernail. “I mean, we’re all going to die anyway, right? It’s inevitable.”

Yunho swallows. “That’s awfully morbid of you.”

“I don’t think so. At all. Don’t you think it’s comforting? That no matter what happens, and where we go and what shit piles down on us, there’s always an exit—a light at the end of the tunnel.”

“Death’s not an exit, Changmin. It’s an end.”

Changmin nibbles on his lip. “Do you believe there’s a Heaven, Yunho?”

“I don’t know. I hope so.”

Changmin smiles wanly. “I hope there’s a Heaven above for a person like me. I think they’ll end up shutting the pearly gates on my face though. I’m not exactly, well… Heaven material. But honestly, I hope when we die, we just die. I hope there’s no chance of an afterlife, and that we just fade into nothingness. I hope we just shut down and that’s the end, and there’s no more and…”

Changmin lets out a long sigh. “So?” Changmin says. “What _your_ poison.”

Yunho shakes his head. “I don’t have one. I deal with my problems in healthy ways, like an adult.”

“Well, aren’t you just the golden boy.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“You know,” Changmin laughs bitterly, downing another shot of vodka and pinching his eyes and lips. “You know what’s really fucking funny, Yunho?”

Yunho doesn’t bother correcting the honorific. He leans further back in his chair and watches as Changmin throws his head back on the couch beside him. He works his lips and licks them, fading into drunkenness.

Yunho remembers his sister doing the same and it burns him from the inside out to watch someone else go through this.

“They just… _left,_ so easily. Do you have _any_ idea about the kinds of things I had to do to keep us together, as the maknae? Because he liked the little ones, yeah? And how long I kept my fucking mouth shut just to protect them and then they just decided that they didn’t want this anymore. They just left me behind—and when I said didn’t want to come with, do you know what they said?”

Yunho’s throat feels dry and his stomach is churning. He’s trying to piece the puzzles together of the drunken slurs. He’s not even sure he wants to know, but Changmin has to talk. He has to let him talk.

“They said,” he raises up his hands and quirks the first two fingers on each hand, “then _don’t.”_ He drops his arms and laughs again. “They didn’t even ask me if—no, they didn’t even attempt to persuade me they just fucking, went on their way and left me all alone. They never even got to know what I did. And it’s so funny, because I never told them because I was trying to protect them, but hyung, it looks like they never cared in the first place, you know? They never even cared, and now I…” he gestures to himself then crosses his arms, clawing his fingernails into his biceps. “I’m dirty now. For them. For us. Stupid, right? I was so fucking stupid… only fifteen, you know? I had so much trust in the people around me and this is what I get for it.” He dips his head back into the couch and sighs, long and weary.

Yunho remembers the pictures Changmin showed him of his debut and feels like throwing up. He was so small, innocent, and wide eyed, and he’d had his innocence crushed at such a young age. And he thought he was doing the right thing. He thought he needed to, to succeed.

“You’re not dirty, Changmin-ah,” is all Yunho can force himself to croak out.

Changmin just laughs and waves the shot glass he hasn’t yet dropped. “We both know it. Jesus, almost everyone in the company knows about it now. Rumours travel fast, you know? Someone started talking, and then people were giving me these weird looks and… well it was after the break up so I didn’t really have anyone to tell me what was going on, but then Kyuhyun brought it up and well.”

He picks his head up with all the effort it seems he can muster, and he reaches blindly with a clumsy hand for the vodka. Yunho doesn’t stop him because he knows that right now, in this moment, Changmin needs this. And he hates that he does, and he hates himself for wanting to know so badly why Changmin is like this, and to figure out how he’ll be able to fix him, that he lets him drink and drink to the point where he can barely sit up right.

“It’s like a company secret now. Everyone knows that Shim Changmin sucked his sunbae’s dick to get ahead. Everyone knows I’m dirty now. Embarrassing, right?”

Yunho shakes his head and exclaims, “Changmin, you are _not_ in any way dirty! You did what you thought you had to do to protect yourself and your friends. You were manipulated by someone so much older than you. If anyone’s dirty, it’s him, not you.”

Changmin downs the shot and hangs his head between his knees for a moment before cocking his head to the side and making eye contact with Yunho. “I’m not dirty, huh? You really think I’m not dirty?”

“I really think that,” Yunho says, trying to get the sincerity to shine through his voice.

“Then…” Changmin says, and he shifts closer to Yunho. He brings his face so close Yunho can feel his breath, and the aftertaste of vodka is burning his eyes. “Then if you think I’m not dirty, why won’t you kiss me?”

Yunho feels tears well up in his eyes. “Changmin-ah…”

Changmin pokes out his tongue and just his chin closer. “Why not, Yunho? I can see the way you look at me, and you know how I feel about you. I _know_ for a fact you want to kiss me, so why not?”

“Not like this,” Yunho says, and he feels horrible for pushing him away when he’s this vulnerable, but he can’t have Changmin do this while he’s intoxicated. He doesn’t know how much is really him, and how much of it is just the alcohol speaking. “Not when you’re drunk.”

Changmin rolls his eyes and scoffs, pulling back an inch. “Or is that just an excuse? ‘Cause now you know what I did, you don’t want my mouth on you, right? Scared I caught something sucking my sunbae off, or do you just think it’s detestable?”

“Changmin, _neither,_ it’s neither. I just can’t kiss you while you’re like this. Because if you regret it in the morning, what are you going to do? You’ll run away, won’t you?”

Changmin leans closer again and whispers, “well I’m not gonna regret it, am I? Yunho, I know what I want. I want you.” He leans so close to Yunho’s lips they’re almost touching, waiting for the older man to make a move. He dips his tongue out and starts licking at Yunho’s bottom lip. “I know you want it, Yunho. _Come on._ ” He sounds kind of desperate now, and Yunho breaks.

He surges forward and connects their lips. It turns desperate and opened mouth almost straight away, and their tongues are massaging against each other within seconds. Yunho’s never been kissed with such ferocity, and it’s addictive, and he wants to kiss Changmin until he can’t breathe anymore.

But he knows it’s wrong. Not when Changmin’s like this and he’s sober. He has to act the mature one, and it kills him because he knows Changmin’s going to see this as a personal slight.

“Stop. Changmin, stop.” He says when they part for breath.

Changmin whines childishly in the back of his throat and smacks his hands on the couch. He sounds like he’s close to crying and having a tantrum. He’s so like a kid in this moment, and it breaks his heart because he knows Changmin never got to live his full childhood out before it was taken from him.

Yunho grabs Changmin’s shoulders and pulls him into a hug. Changmin buries the bridge of his nose in Yunho’s shoulder. He’s shaking all over.

Yunho presses soft kisses over the side of his neck. He wants Changmin to know he’s wanted in the most simple of ways. He wants Changmin to know first that he cares about who he is, and not just his body. Changmin’s been used enough, and he can’t take advantage of him again when he can’t think properly.

“You’re beautiful, Changmin-ah. You’re the farthest thing in my mind from dirty, and none of this is your fault. You can’t convince me for a second that it is, or that you’re less than perfect. You know what I thought when I first saw you cry that day in the elevator, baby? I thought, hey, this guy has a heart. And you kept showing me it, and fuck, Changmin, it shines so bright. You’re so bright, you’re just hiding it under all those layers to protect yourself. But I’m here, right now, and you don’t need to protect yourself when I’m around, okay? Because I love you, flaws and all. I love every single part of you, and even if you _are_ dirty, then I love that part of you, too. Give hyung some credit too, huh? Believe that no matter what, I’m not gonna leave you. That I’m not gonna see you in a bad light. Tell me everything, and I’ll listen, and I won’t judge you, baby.” He places a long kiss just behind Changmin’s ear and whispers to him, “you’ve been so strong, baby. You’ve been so strong enduring it all this time, and I’m so proud of you.”

It takes that one line, and Changmin breaks. He listens to the words, and his grip on Yunho tightens, then all of a sudden he’s bursting out into loud sobs.

“I’m sorry, hyung I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry!”

Yunho rocks him back and forth, kissing his hair intermittently. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry about, Changmin-ah. Hyung’s here. I’m not going anywhere without you.”

Changmin cries so loudly he’s sure the floors above, below, and to the sides can all hear. He just strokes his hair through his cries and whispers small comforts into his ear. His shirt is stained with tears, shoulder soaked, but he couldn’t care less.

Changmin’s sobs slow, and he hiccups and groans, the last of the cries leaving his throat. He drops into Yunho, relaxing completely, and Yunho realises he’s just on the verge of collapsing.

“Changmin-ah,” he says, tapping his cheek to get his attention.

Changmin comes back to it long enough for Yunho to drag him into bed. He’s about to pull the covers over Changmin when he grabs his wrist and weakly attempts to yank him down. Yunho gets the message and crawls into the double bed next to the young man. He slips under the covers and Changmin immediately cuddles up to him like a koala. Yunho lets him and settles in until they both have arms and legs wrapped around in every way possible, and their foreheads and pressed together. Changmin eyes are red and glazed, and he looks up at Yunho with a gaze so unguarded that it makes his heart ache.

“Hyung?”

Yunho swallows. “Yeah?”

“I love you, Yunho hyung.”

Yunho feels like he’s burning, and he lets a small tear slip from the corner of his eye. He pulls Changmin closer and breathes him in, jutting his chin out and giving Changmin another kiss. This time, it’s slow, and chaste, and it’s just for the comfort.

Yunho breaks the kiss and runs his nails through Changmin’s scalp. “I love you, too.”

Changmin smiles, and it’s the most genuine Yunho’s ever seen it, and his eyes do this little thing where they get mismatched. “Thank you,” he says. “For loving someone like me.”

Yunho’s going to say something back, but Changmin’s face is smoothing out and his eyes are slipping closed. He lets him be and gives him one last stroke of the hair before he lets out a long breath and smiles.

 

* * *

 

 

Heechul twirls and Yunho wrinkles his nose.

“What? Fuck off, I look good in a dress and you _know_ it.”

Yunho does.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Yunho puts his spoon down and blurts out, “I’m gay.”

Heechul keeps munching on his cereal and scrolling through his phone, and Yunho worries that he didn’t hear.

He repeats himself.

Heechul sighs, flicking his eyes up from his phone. “Water is wet, grass is green, and you like it up the ass.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Yunho smacks Changmin over the back of his head. “Don’t have a family, my ass. Your family are out there, you’re just the one who’s too afraid to mend the bridge.”

“They probably hate me by now. All I even do is fuck things up and make things difficult for them. They receive death threats all the time and it’s just better that we don’t talk. They don’t need someone like me as a son.”

Yunho looks at him incredulously and then smacks his right over the back of the head. “You _idiot!_ Have you even _tried_ talking to them? Have you even spared a moment to ask how they feel about this? Stop being such a whiny bitch and get some courage. Send a text and let them know you’re going all right. The bridge isn’t going to mend if you don’t hold one end up. Stop expecting them to come to you, and do it yourself.”

Changmin starts to cry, but Yunho can’t really find it in himself to regret what he’s said. He knows it’s true. Changmin is whining and lying here in self-pity, hoping the world will resolve his problems for him, and that the people around will pick up the pieces, when that is so not the case. Yunho knows this all too well. You have to make things better for yourself, you can’t just wait for things to be resolved because then it’ll be too late.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

They fuck in a closet and it’s all very ironic.

Yunho’s kind of appalled by the whole thing, but Changmin finds it hilarious. In fact, he finds it _so_ hilarious he has to take breaks in between them fucking to laugh it out of his system, smacking the wall with his palm as tears of mirth build in his eyes.

 

 

 

 


	2. sleep walking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Changmin likes to sleep in Yunho's bed. 
> 
> (ok in advance I wrote this like 3 hours after surgery so my apologies if it's messed up as fuck, I attempted to edit but... yeah)

 

The first time it happens, Changmin is fifteen. He stands at the doorway the night after their debut, the digital clock signalling passed four, inching into morning. He stands in the doorway, hallway light spilling into Yunho’s room. Yunho groans and looks to Changmin, and he realises just how small he is, silhouetted and swallowed by the dim light inside the doorframe. Yunho wants to ask him if he’s okay, or if he needs to talk, but truthfully Yunho’s too exhausted to even think of putting his best foot forward. He lifts his arm from the covers, icy morning making him shiver even from the brief contact.

“C’mere,” he mumbles through the haze of sleep.

Changmin scurries to obey and tucks himself under the duvet, pressing his back to Yunho’s front. Yunho massages his head and scratches his nails absentmindedly on his scalp. Before Yunho can even entertain the thought of dropping back to sleep, Changmin is dead to the world.

 

 

Changmin’s always been an earlier riser than Yunho, so when he wakes, Changmin is long gone, his spot cold and made.

Yunho wants to ask Changmin what made him crawl into his bed, but when he catches his eye over breakfast and Changmin turns an alarming shade of red, Yunho just smiles and instead asks, “Changmin, can you pass the salt?”

Changmin knocks it over in his hurry to obey, and they both laugh, and the tension between them dissipates.

 

 

It happens three months later, the day before Changmin goes on his first proper variety show. He’s been pacing all night, and honestly Yunho isn’t that surprised to find himself being poked awake at some ungodly hour. Even in the dark, Yunho can see Changmin worrying at his bottom lip.

“Can I?”

Yunho grabs Changmin’s wrist and pulls him forward with a sleepy grunt. “You don’t have to ask.”

Changmin settles against Yunho with such relaxation it’s like he belongs there, and Yunho caresses him to sleep again.

It’s one of the best night’s sleep Yunho gets in weeks.

 

 

Changmin takes Yunho’s words and stops asking for permission to sleep next to him. Some mornings, on the rare occasions that he catches him before he wakes, Yunho blinks awake with a mouthful of Changmin’s hair. He likes those mornings the best because he tickles and flicks at Changmin’s ear until he rolls awake with a groan. He curses out Yunho for it saying, “a simple ‘wake up’ would suffice, moron,” but Yunho thinks it’s so worth it.

 

 

Yunho starts seeing a pattern. When Changmin is stressed or worried, he climbs into his bed. When Yunho realises this as Changmin nears nineteen, he curses himself out for not noticing sooner, and hates that it’s so _him_ to be oblivious.

He finally brings it up on one of the nights where Changmin’s fidgety and won’t drop off to sleep.

Changmin shifts uncomfortably then sighs, knowing he won’t be able to pretend he’s asleep. “I get… nightmares, when I’m stressed.” He admits it like Yunho’s pulling his teeth, and Yunho supposes for someone so introverted and tight-lipped as Changmin, Yunho might as well be.

Yunho frowns and pulls him closer. “Do you come to me every time you have a nightmare?”

Changmin thinks his answer over for a moment before replying. “I can handle it.”

Yunho grips him so tight he’s like the koala he always teases Changmin to be. “Sleep here from now on. I don’t mind.”

Changmin splutters and protests until Yunho confesses, “I sleep better with you here,” and really, what can Changmin say to that?

 

 

Yunho learns all sorts of things about Changmin as he’s well on his way into his twenties. He learns that Changmin can’t help but wiggle when he can’t fall asleep. Yunho’s not a light sleeper, but knowing his bed mate is feeling distressed sparks something in him and blinks him awake. He strokes and scratches at Changmin’s hair and bare skin until he’s breathing so deep he starts snoring the slightest bit. Yunho finds out that Changmin’s snoring is ridiculously soft and ridiculously _cute._ Some nights he stays awake, forcing his lids not to close, just smiling and listening.

Some nights, Yunho knows that Changmin deliberately stirs him awake just to be petted, but Yunho finds he really, really doesn’t mind.

 

 

Yunho’s always known that Changmin sleep talks and walks, but it only starts getting understandable after the split. Those nights where they cling to each other, trying to ease their anxieties, Changmin speaks. It’s not always conversations, sometimes it’s just small admissions that he’s feeling lonely or scared, and all Yunho can do is bury his nose in Changmin’s neck because he knows you’re not supposed to wake sleep talkers.

One night, just after their duo debut and a nasty fight over nothing of importance, Changmin crawls into Yunho’s bed when Yunho’s asleep, this time facing him. He jostles and turns until Yunho is awake and stroking his hair, fight forgotten., and Changmin pushes his face closer.

Yunho’s breath hitches.

Changmin knows just how to fake sleep talking. He should, since he’s been faking it the whole time after the split.

“Hyung, I love you.”

Yunho stops stroking the skin of his bare back for a moment then breathes out hot and heavy, “Love you too, Changmin.” Changmin keeps inching closer until their breathes are brushing over one another’s, and Yunho sighs. “I wish you were like this when you’re awake.”

Changmin presses his forehead to Yunho’s and says, “Hyung, I’m awake, and I’m going to kiss you now if that’s okay?”

Yunho’s reminded of a similar conversation from years in the past, and he smiles. “You don’t have to ask.”


	3. just 100% smut

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> basically me being cruel

The interview is fucking boring. The interviewer is droning on and on about how good they are, how many albums they’ve sold, like their fans haven’t heard the same spiel over and over in every single god damn interview they’ve done in the last four years.

A break is issued and both Yunho and Changmin let out a sigh of relief, Yunho dropping his shoulders and Changmin slouching in his chair. Yunho nudges Changmin’s leg, silently telling him to sit up and not be so rude, but Changmin disobeys the order and avoids Yunho’s gaze.

Yunho isn’t happy. He hates being disobeyed, especially by Changmin. He’s about to say something about it when the interviewer taps him on the shoulder and gives a big smile, red lipstick stretching so far it gives Yunho a headache. She asks him for a ‘private talk’ to discuss the interview, but Yunho knows it has nothing to do with the interview by the way she’s letting her top hang loose, giving a good view of her breasts.

Yunho smirks and agrees.

Changmin hears and whips around, scowl on his face, ready to give the older man a piece of his mind. When he sees the teasing smirk Yunho shoots in his direction, Changmin freezes, mouth half open.

So that’s how he’s going to be, Changmin thinks. Changmin waits until Yunho sits down and starts having a very professional conversation with the host in which she practically shoves her tits in his face. He pulls out his phone and starts typing out a text, sly smile gracing his face.

He presses send and folds his arm, staring very deliberately at Yunho.

Yunho interrupts the girl with a smile and pulls out his phone, checking the text. He coughs, eye bulging wide, and crosses his legs with another cough.

_‘I want you to tie me up and fuck me so hard I cant walk’_

Yunho sends back a series of dots and puts the phone in his lap before restarting his conversation with the blonde host.

Changmin grumbles in his corner and turns back to his phone, ready to up his game.

_‘I left the handcuffs on the table’_

_‘maybe you want the rope today’_

_‘wanna feel your fingers in me’_

Yunho checks his phone every time it chimes, blinking far more than necessary. He types back a reply.

‘ _Changmin stop. Someone might see’_

_‘maybe you’d like that?’_

The girl starts looking discontent and shuffles around in her chair, squishing her boobs together with her arms. Changmin thinks she’s putting up a good effort, but it’s too bad that Yunho is gayer than Neil Patrick Harris (too bad that Yunho has a proclivity for things that hang between legs).

_‘would you hyung? would you like it if you could tie me up for everyone to watch?_

Changmin sees Yunho flinch in his. The girl leans closer and asks him if he’s okay, and he shakes then nods his head, flustered. He types viciously into his phone.

_‘u are horrible. horrible.’_

_‘wanna be good for you hyung’_

_‘want you to fuck me and call me good’_

_‘are u asking to be punished?’_

_‘…’_

Yunho snaps his phone shut and looks very red in the face.

The director shouts that the break is over and Yunho ambles back over to the camera.

He gives the camera man a sunny, innocent smile, like he wasn’t just hinting at fucking Changmin into the mattress.

Changmin’s almost certain he’s about to get his ass whooped right here and now, but Yunho just calmly takes a seat next to him on the couch and adjusts his jacket.

Changmin’s pissed.

He’s pissed, and he’s fucking _horny,_ and Yunho won’t even acknowledge him.

Changmin glues himself to Yunho’s side like a second skin. “This is the last schedule for the day,” Changmin reminds him kindly, smile so bright it’s hard to tell he’s fantasizing about being tied up by his hyung. “It’s been _two weeks.”_

Yunho straightens. “The interview’s about to start.”

Changmin whines and throws his head back. It’s been a very, very long two weeks, and there are only so many times that Changmin can jerk off in the shower before losing his mind.

 

* * *

 

 

“I’ll just get the interview finalised, so I’ll take you two home in around ten.”

Yunho stands abruptly. “I’m going to the bathroom.” He spins and stalks away, and Changmin watches with carefully. Yunho turns, as Changmin thought, and gives him a dark look before disappearing around the hall. A shiver of pleasure runs down Changmin’s spine, and he jumps to his feet.

Yunho kicks the bathroom door shut and pulls the deadlock shut. He grabs Changmin by the wrists and pushes him back until he’s pinned against the wall. “What the hell was that?”

Changmin gives Yunho a challenging stare and smirks, body arching towards Yunho. “Did I make you mad?”

Yunho growls in the back of his throat and pushes closer until their faces are inches apart and their crotches are brushing. Changmin wavers.

“You’ve been bad,” Yunho says, drawing himself to his full height. With Changmin leaning back on the wall, he’s just taller and gets to look down at the younger man. Changmin keeps silent. Yunho pushes his half hard dick against Changmin’s, and he arches up from the wall.

Yunho grabs both of Changmin’s wrists in one hand and pins it above his head, putting his left hand around Changmin’s throat. He doesn’t cut off his air, only uses the hand as a display of power. Changmin shrinks and bucks up, lips falling open.

“You want me to punish you?”

Changmin pants, his breathing irregular and hard nipples poking through his shirt.

“Hyung, _please._ Please punish me.”

 

“Tell me when you’re gonna cum. Want you on me.”

Changmin groans. Yunho undoes Changmin’s buckle and zip, pulling his boxers and jeans just so his cock is hanging out. Yunho licks the head then sinks down half way, easing himself until he’s taken almost all of Changmin. Changmin’s breathing gets shallow and needy.

Yunho gives it to him, quick and sloppy. He doesn’t want to make it good, he just wants to get Changmin to cum as fast as possible. He blows him with so much vigour that Changmin has to hold one hand in his mouth to stop the moans and the other on the wall to keep him steady.

It’s only a few minutes before Changmin’s choking out, ‘hyung, hyung I’m close—I’m gonna—“

Yunho lets Changmin’s cock fall from his lips and stares up at the younger boy. Changmin reaches down to jerk himself off, but Yunho catches his hands.

“No.”

Changmin falters. “No? What do you mean?”

Yunho gives a lick to the head of his cock that has Changmin jerking hard from the sensitivity. “You’re not allowed to cum until I say you can.”


	4. mobster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> yunhos a mobster and changmin is unlucky

Changmin hops into his mum’s car, pulling his backpack into his lap. He’s had a long day and feels far too tired to really want conversation, but he at least has manners, so he turns to his mum to say hello…

Except it’s not his mum. It’s a tanned man who looks a few years older than him with a cigarette hanging from between his teeth. He’s got sunglasses on, and Changmin can see the scar running down his left cheek, straight and puckered red. Changmin gulps. He looks like he could murder him in a second. “Um. Sorry? I got the wrong car. I’ll just go—“

The man suddenly swings the car into drive and they go flying. Changmin buckles his seatbelt and looks up at him, alarmed. Is he getting kidnapped? Is this how he’s going to die? He’s about to pray for his life when he sees and hears the flash of sirens floating behind them. He sinks into his chair and whimpers, because it’s _just_ his luck that he mistakes his mother’s car for a fucking _criminals._

“Hold on tight, kid,” they guy says, and he’s got a thick accent that makes him sound even rougher.

Changmin doesn’t cry easily, but right now he wants to curl into a ball and pretend this isn’t happening. The criminal turns the corner at an alarming speed, and Changmin goes to his happy place when he sees the criminal chuck his cigarette and light another while going passed a hundred kilometers an hour. Changmin takes the wheel and feels like he’s going to die when the criminal mutters a thanks and takes the wheel back.

He spins them in and around the city, and the cops are yelling his name, Jung Yunho, and telling him to stop.

“So, um,” Changmin says, because when he’s nervous, he gets a bit stupid and he tends to talk a lot. “You’re well known by the police, huh?”

The criminal takes his eyes off the road to look at him and Changmin nearly has a heart attack when they almost hit the curb.

“Well, yeah. Haven’t heard of the Jung’s before?”

Changmin might’ve except he spends all his days studying inside a tiny room. He doesn’t much keep up with the news.

He tells Yunho as much, and Yunho laughs. “Hold the ash tray for me a sec, will you?”

Changmin lets him tap the cigarette on the metal tray, then he says, “so who are the Jung’s exactly?”

“Oh,” Yunho says and he sucks a large breath of smoke in. He exhales with, “you know, the mobsters in this part of town? I’m the mob leaders son, basically.”

“Oh.” Changmin stares forward. “Oh so I accidentally got into a mobsters car. Well. Oh.”

Yunho laughs loud and with all his shiny white teeth. “Got in the wrong car today, kid.”


	5. Changmin learns to drive

_(okay apologies if I got the mechanics wrong I haven't driven manual in like 2 years so)_

 

 

“Automatics much easier,” Yunho says, attempting to persuade Changmin.

 

Changmin just shakes his head. “No. I want to drive manual. It’s far more practical. Plus, it’s easier to run before walking, right?”

 

Yunho sighs, because of course, _of course_ Changmin would pick the most difficult way to do it. Even Yunho didn’t have his first lesson in a manual; he took an automatic car for a spin a few times and got used to the feeling of driving before challenging the stick shift.

 

“Right. I mean—no, but I get the sentiment.”

 

Changmin grins and takes a hold of the wheel with both hands, looking ahead with fire in his eyes.

 

“Right, so first of all you’ve got to put the car in neutral, then hold down the clutch which is on--no, the other foot—no I meant the other pedal. Yeah, that one. You’ve got to hold it about half way and give a little gas, then turn the keys on."

 

Changmin does as he’s instructed.

 

The car stutters and plonks dead.

 

“Hyung, it’s not _working._ ”

 

Yunho sends Changmin an incredulous look. “You have to actually practice a bit, Changmin. Surely you don’t expect to just step into a car and know what to do right away.”

 

From Changmin’s expression, Yunho realises that’s exactly what he thought.

 

Yunho instructs him to try again, and they bicker and squabble over the logistics of starting the car, and it takes them seven tries to actually get the car started. It’s worth it when Changmin looks up at him and beams with pride. Yunho swallows.

 

“Okay. Okay, now push the clutch down all the way and grab the gear stick and shift it to one. Then slowly, _very slowly,_ push down the acceleration until—“

 

The car lurches forward then dies again. Yunho bites his tongue mid sentance and it’s bleeding all in his mouth.

 

“Oh my god, hyung! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to—“

 

“Itsh fine, Chagmin. Jush, go _shlowly,_ okay?”

 

Changmin looks at him with wide eyes and nods, trying again.

 

Yunho makes sure to keep this tongue far away from the snap of his teeth.

 

The car shudders to life with a bout of reluctance, and finally they’re off. Luckily, Yunho had the absolute fantastic foresight to drive them to a very secluded area with wide streets because he too well remembers his first time driving. Within two minutes he’d crashed the bonnet of his car into a light pole and his instructor had burst into tears.

 

Changmin drives jerkily, and Yunho’s head is flicking back and forth so much he thinks it might snap.

 

“Okay, to put it into second gear, remember I told you that you’ve got to hold the clutch down and stop accelerating, then change it.”

 

Yunho pretty much regrets reminding Changmin how to change gears straight away, because Changmin’s tearing down the road and pressing the peddle to the max, making the gears groan and whine at being pushed over the limit. Changmin shifts into third gear, and they swing around a corner so fast the wheels smell like they’re burning.

 

Yunho screams.

 

He thinks he might actually die.

 

He’s got blood smeared under his lips now from his bitten tongue.

 

Changmin starts screaming too.

 

“HOW DO I STOP THIS THING?”

 

Yunho’s too busy screaming to really give any proper instructions. “PRESS—OH GOD LOOK OUT—THE BREAK. JUST—AHH—THE PEDAL NEXT TO THE ACCELLERATOR!”

 

Changmin finally kind of gets the hint and slams down on the breaks so hard that Yunho’s flung forward, the seatbelt locking into place and preventing him from flying out the front window.

 

They’ve stopped in the middle of the street, and Changmin’s breathing so heavy Yunho’s worried his lung might pop. He looks over with eyes so wide they look like they’re about to tumble out.

 

“That,” Yunho says with laboured breaths, “is why you should always wear a seatbelt.”

 

Yunho hires Changmin an official instructor the day after and swears not to touch the passenger when Changmin's driving _ever again._


	6. cooking: 60 minute challenge

“Changmin,” Yunho says one afternoon, standing in the doorway and scratching his nose obnoxiously.

Changmin wrinkles his nose and looks up from his PSP suspiciously, Yunho’s tone having put him on edge. Usually Yunho would just bust into his room and demand whatever it is he needed, but he was being cautious. It’s _weird,_ and Yunho really doesn’t trust him one bit. “…What?”

Yunho walks into his room very slowly, each toe patting the floor with care before he’s right up next to Changmin. He takes a seat on his bed and blinks innocently. If Changmin was apprehensive before, right now he’sdownright distrustful.

“What?” Changmin demands this time, one eye on his game and the other narrowed at Yunho. It’s an effort, but he does it out of necessity.

“Well, there’s kind of this _thing_ that I need help with...”

/

“I can’t believe this,” Changmin bemoans, hands on hips, apron securely on. “People are always like, ‘ _oh, Yunho’s so perfect! He’s so manly and there’s nothing he oppa can’t do!’._ I can’t believe this, if only they could take one look at your sorry ass trying to cook. Just _look_ at you. You can’t even chop a god damn carrot right. ‘Perfect, can do anything Yunho oppa’ my _ass._ ”

Yunho, to his credit, doesn’t rise to the bait. “Well, you could give me a hand and teach me.”

Changmin shakes his head and approaches the chopping board.

He puts his hand over Yunho’s and the other around his waist, steadying himself.

Changmin tries controlling the knife, but the position is too awkward, so he shuffles closer and wraps his arm all the way around Yunho’s front, standing directly behind him and placing his chin on his shoulder to peek over. Yunho pokes out his tongue and tucks his chin into his chest so Changmin has a better view.

 

He grips Yunho’s wrist and pushes down. “See, yeah? It’s the angle you have to watch out for. And you just have to go for it, because if you hesitate the angle will change.”

Yunho copies Changmin’s movements, this time without help. The end of the carrot goes flying and Yunho drops to the floor in anguish. “I can’t do it,” he bemoans. “How am I supposed to learn how to cook when the world hates me?”

Changmin rolls his eyes and kicks Yunho not-so-softly. “Stop being such a kid. If your parents could see you now imagine what they’d say.”

“They’d say that it’s horrible the kitchen is conspiring against me this way.” Yunho rolls around and Changmin has to tip toe around him so he doesn’t trip.

“You’re a child. Seriously. A child in an adults body. Now get up and we’ll try again.”

Yunho grumbles until Changmin puts his foot somewhere sensitive and Yunho is bolting up, smile plastered on his face. “READY TO GO,” he semi-shouts, his eyes screaming with pain.

Yunho actually manages to cut the carrot with some success—the success being that he didn’t hurt and/or maim anyone in the immediate vicinity. Changmin can’t say the same for the poor soul who will have to sample this concoction. Yunho says he’s making spaghetti sauce, but the pots boiling an odd brown colour. He doesn’t even know how it happened. One minute Changmin was standing there and he took his eyes off the pot for two minutes and it transformed into a spectacular kind of sludge.

“Who’s all this for anyway?”

Yunho suddenly gets all shy and awkward, and Changmin has to ask three more times before he can get a straight answer out of him.

“There’s someone I like, and I want to tell them today.”

Changmin’s heart drops. “Oh,” he says, then adds a pinch too many of salt into the pot, stomach rumbling with irritation. “Who is she?”

“They’re one of our staff. They’re _so_ amazing, Changminnie. They’re always there for me when I need them, but,” he says, pouting, “lately they’ve been distant.”

“Yeah? Maybe they’re not interested,” Changmin says childishly, and Yunho flinches.

“Oh,” says Yunho. “I get it.”

Changmin is puzzled. “Um, okay? It’s not the end of the world or anything, and I mean, it’s not like my word is the end all or anything.” Changmin does feel a bit guilty now.

It’s Yunho’s turn to look puzzled now. “Well, it kind of _is_ up to you.”

“It’s really not,” Changmin retorts. “I know we’ve been partners for years, but that doesn’t mean I have a say over your love life. That would be… petty.”

Yunho just looks at Changmin for one second. Two. Three. Four. “Are you stupid?” Yunho finally asks, and Changmin splutters.

“E-Excuse me?”

Yunho smacks his forehead with his palm and lets out a long sigh. “Was I not obvious enough?” he mumbles to himself, followed by unintelligible ranting. Changmin gives him a funny look when he’s marched up to and Yunho grabs his shoulders, forcing him to the dining room and into a chair. Yunho says to stay right there and not move, and Changmin obeys, his head filled with question marks.

Yunho comes back moments later with a plate and a fork and dumps the soggy pasta and brown sauce that should be red in front of him. “For you. It was for you.”

Changmin blinks. Blinks again. Then goes bright red. “Oh,” he says. “ _Oh._ ” His face is on _fire._ He swallows and clears his throat. “I. You too. Me too—I mean, I like—yeah.” Changmin shoves a forkful of spaghetti into his mouth. “Delicious.”

Yunho looks at him with sparkling eyes and Changmin has to laugh at their awkwardness. “Come here,” he says, then gives Yunho a soft kiss, his body tingling straight from his head to toes.

“I love you, you idiot.”


End file.
